


For Want Of A Nail

by A_Ravens_Flight



Series: The Soldier & The Spy [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action & Romance, Angst, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-07 21:04:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1913808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Ravens_Flight/pseuds/A_Ravens_Flight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'The jeans are torn, your blood paints the ripped material and your jacket is hanging off your shoulder in tattered strips of brown leather. It exposes the armoured vest which is punctured by the stray bullet, red seeps slowly from the small hole. You throw your head back and sigh. The glass was a bad idea. You look down at the shards protruding from your arm and let out a quiet laugh. Definitely a bad idea'</p><p>Maria & Natasha work a particularly difficult mission together and learn to trust each other. One of their lives will depends on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for any grammatical errors, if you spot any please feel free to inform me. Reviews are welcome and much appreciated. Check my profile for my Tumblr user if you prefer to contact me through there. Always looking for co authors. (Coauthored by Tumblr user Ironwillmelt)

**_‘For want of a nail, the war was lost’_ **

 

“Move” You say to yourself. The voice unfamiliar and strange. “Get up” Definitely not yours, there is strength in the sound and it commands action. You look around the room again, clarity returning as the whistle in your head lowers in pitch to become a dull aching sound. Your body is jealous and proceeds to join in with your head; the ache spreads further until you’re forced to breathe like the snipers of old. You sip at the dust laden air and look down.

The jeans are torn, your blood paints the ripped material and your jacket is hanging off your shoulder in tattered strips of brown leather. It exposes the armoured vest which is punctured by the stray bullet, red seeps slowly from the small hole. You throw your head back and sigh. The glass was a bad idea. You look down at the shards protruding from your arm and let out a quiet laugh. Definitely a bad idea

You lift your right wrist so that it hovers directly in front of your stomach and watch as the bruises begin to form. A familiar voice emits from your earpiece, the sound distorted but understandable. She asks you your status, any emotion expertly hidden, though you know she saw the whole ordeal. You clamber to your feet and unsettle the dust.

Your eyes find Thorn’s form in the corner; his crumpled body lay prone against the carpet where you cushioned his fall then threw him off. Taking another sip of the air you manage to convince her that you have the target and you are fine. Only one part of that is a lie.

The sounds of a Helicopter become apparent. They do not give up that easy. You command her to get the car and wait; the elevator should get you both down to street level and out of sight from the bird stalking your movements.

He begins to stir a little, mumbles incoherently. You’re both in bad shape but adrenaline begins to course through your veins, giving you the boost needed to get this done. You help him to his feet and secure him. Injured or not he still poses a risk and this mission is far from over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria learns of a ghost who is back to haunt her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Mention of Abuse, Torture, Murder & Drugs

The day begins like any other. You awake at 7am, showered and dressed by 8am, in your office at 9am. On your desk lies the paperwork for Agent Barton and Agent Romanov's latest mission. They have recently returned from an Op in Peru so you're surprised to find the reports ready for review. Scratch that,  _you're_   _surprised to see Agent Barton's paperwork_. The archer is notorious for slacking with the administration side of the job.

It only takes a simple look at the handwriting to understand why the work has been completed. Natasha has written this for him. You smile despite the obvious code violations and sign them off as completed. 

 

* * *

 

Natasha has been with SHIELD for little over two years now and your relationship is sketchy at best. You were both wary of each other at first. You saw a threat, a potential leak of SHIELD information to your enemies. She saw a soldier, utilitarian through and through, too loyal for your own good.

Throughout her rehabilitation and training you locked horns frequently. She was stubborn, flouting the rules and ignoring commands on missions. Doing the job how she liked. Lone wolf. 

She got the job done, mission failure never an option. However the collateral was beginning to build up again and despite Director Fury assigning Phil Coulson as her handler, the Ex-KGB spy still managed to fly perilously close to a termination of contract. 

You were tasked on bringing her to heel before she became a threat to SHIELD. Again. This proved difficult, hindered by the opinions you had both formed on each other. You returned to the field and shadowed her. Took the role of partner from Agent Barton.

Opinions were changed slightly. You both recognised something more within each other. Something you both shared. She started to adapt to SHIELD. Started to adapt to you. In turn you adapted to her. Emotions you were uncomfortable with began to surface.  So when that fateful report came in, you had qualms regarding your chosen partner for the mission.

* * *

 

You’re cursing silently to yourself, staring intently at the familiar face on the board screen. The face belongs to a man who you thought long gone, a ghost of your earlier days at S.H.I.E.L.D, a reminder of painful lessons you were forced to learn. 

 

**Name** : David Henshaw 

**Alias/s** : Thorn

**Status** :  ~~Deceased~~  Active

**Threat Level** :  ~~Negligible~~  High 

**Incursions** : Arms dealer, Drug Trafficker, Armed Robbery, Vehicular Man Slaughter & 13 counts of 1st Degree Murder 

 

The report came in early this morning. It begged your immediate attention. You were summoned to the briefing room once the contents became apparent. Fury was there waiting, discussing some notion with Phil who is seated by the board. You know before the door even opens she is there behind you. She murmurs a greeting in Russian. You return the sentiment in German and enter the room together.

Phil immediately discusses the contents of the unsuspected report. You're not the only one who this man haunts. Fury inputs only a little. You and Phil know this target inside out. It hints to Natasha that something painful is tied with this man. She doesn’t question when you slam your fist down on the desk. Demanding to know how Thorn’s survival had slipped SHIELD’s attention for so long.

You check yourself for letting your emotions slip through the small crack in your armour. The last thing you need is Natasha noting a weakness. Your relationship is still shaky. A little respect shared for each other. You feel something more. She does not.

Fury steps in to explain all he can. Thorn is back in his old circles. Running with the wrong crowds. The Central Intelligence Agency, Interpol & MI6 have requested SHIELD bring him in. You question why now? Why after all this time Thorn has peeked their interest?

Then he speaks the words that sicken you.

‘ ** _Human Trafficking_** ’

You can’t help the way in which you recoil. Your reaction is mirrored by Phil. You both remember at the same time. Remember finding her body. Getting there too late. He’s escalated to another level of monstrosity.

Fury explains further that key intelligence agents tasked to bringing down this man have gone missing. Only to turn up a few days later deceased. Signs of intense torture and abuse. Many unrecognizable as human.

If these words affect Natasha she does not show it. To her this man is simply another monster. A man to be put down or locked in a cage. She looks at you questioningly. She’s confused as to why this target warrants such a reaction. You've both dealt with worse scum than this. What’s so special about Thorn?

You spare her the details that haunt. Tell her only what she may need to know. Tell her that the man on the screen makes jack the ripper look like a cuddly bear. If he’s in the slave trade now it does not bode well. Phil gives her the details you will not. Explains how you lost a promising young agent to this monster. What you don’t tell her is that she was the first and only agent you've lost. And it was your fault.

Phil knows you blame yourself. He does too. You both made bad calls. Her blood is on your hands and you have a chance to wipe it clean. For her sake more than your own.

Fury tasks all three of you to the mission. He’s never comfortable sending his deputy director back in the field. The fact that this mission is personal only makes it worse. However he knows trying to stop you would be futile. You know how this monster works. There is no one more qualified to lead.

You leave the room to get ready. In three days time you’ll be half way across the world in a MI6 safe house. Natasha follows silently. Like a shadow you cannot shake her. She corners you in your office. Demands an acknowledgement that no matter what happens, if she feels you are compromised she will take control. You would protest but her glare is powerful. The spy can control a room with a simple look. You tell her to leave and prepare. You have a lot to think on. You haven’t acknowledged anything.

Before she leaves she brushes her hand along the plaque on your desk. It reads the words you cherish

‘ _If You Do Not Stand For Something, You Will Fall For Anything_ ’

You watch her smile slightly. Note how her hips sway a little when she walks to the door. You sigh to yourself. This was going to be one hell of a mission.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrive at the safe house and prepare themselves for the mission.

You arrive at the safe house, tired from the long journey. London is a place you've always wanted to find yourself in. You wish the circumstances were different; the chance to truly explore the English culture would have been relished. 

Phil is yet to arrive. As handler for this mission he is at the MI6 HQ on Canary Wharf, coordinating with the agents linked to Thorn. Use of the safe house was much appreciated. The area is busy, teeming with people. Blending in and out of the crowd will be easy.

Natasha was quiet on the whole flight down. You noticed her watching you. Watching you stare off into the great beyond, letting your mind take you anywhere but the memories. The gaze she held was confusing. It almost looked like concern. You put it down to a search for weakness. She had already made it quite clear that the personal aspect of this mission concerned her. 

You’re Maria Hill, Deputy Director of SHIELD, Certified Ice Queen and former Special Forces soldier. You’re her superior officer. You’ve kept her alive and had her back for a long time now. So when she questions your judgement. It hurts.

You do not give a damn about what she thinks. You stop lying to yourself.

The sound of a phone ringing breaks your train of thought. She looks to you as you answer the call and begins to unpack your things for you. You shoot her a look of gratitude which she dismisses with a smile.

It's Phil on the phone. He calls to inform you of an escalation. In the time it has taken for your small team to arrive another agent assigned to watch Thorn has gone off the grid. He tells you that due to the gravity of the situation he will be staying at the HQ for better liaison. You approve. The intelligence community can become a powerful entity when all units are fluid, surging towards the same goals. 

You know why they called you in. Thorn was becoming untouchable. Judges scared for their families and thier lives refused to sign warrants. He probably has half of the metropolitan police force in his pocket. MI6 has made it clear. If you get caught. You're on your own. Your presence here is illegal, your purpose even more so. 

You have three simple instructions:

  1. You find Thorn
  2. You take him back to SHIELD alive
  3. Above all you keep this clean and quiet



Natasha scoffs at the last instruction and you share her sentiment. A man this dangerous will not come quietly. Not alive at least.

Your mind wanders to the MI6 agent who has been captured. You add a fourth instruction that she doesn't scoff at.

Find the missing Agent. Dead or alive. 

Less than 12 hours later you get the call that scratches that notion from your list. The agent is dead. Tortured to death and left outside of a London precinct. 

Natasha speaks the words that run through your mind.

It is a threat display. A show of power. A warning to keep away

You both gear up silently. While you run through the list of victims in your head she prepares herself for the hunt.

You have two weeks to take this monster from his lair. Cut off the head and more will fall. If successful you will never be remembered. If you fail you will never live it down.

This week is only recon.

You're not worried. You've both done this countless times before. 

 

How sorely you are mistaken . . .

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will pick up soon, i promise!  
> Thank you for all the likes, much appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up for the pair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the wait

He's there in your scope, chatting idly on the phone while he leans on his car.

Your safehouse overlooks one of the many buildings he owns and it’s lately he frequents the place. For what reason you’re unsure but you’ll find out eventually. A small team of MI6 agents were tasked to process the place once you had Thorn in custody. 

Your fingers ache on the trigger, begging to take the shot.

Something about the way he carries himself makes you long to destroy him.

With a swift movement that produces a 'click' you flip the safety off and take a breath, holding it while you steady the rifle.

It would be so easy, so simple to put this monster down right now.

You would face the consequences, the suspension and loss of trust from your colleagues.

Wiping that smug look from Thorns face would always be worth it in your eyes.

'Arrogant piece of sh-'

A hand falls on your shoulder and tugs lightly until you finally break your glare. Natasha is shaking her head.

You were so caught up on the target you didn't notice her return to the room. A takeout bag grasped firmly in one hand while her other pushes your rifle down.

“Maria . . . “ 

She narrows her eyes and gestures for you to come eat.

A sigh escapes your lips and you comply.

It’s been ‘Maria’ not ‘Hill’ for little over a week now. You don’t question her on the reasoning, you actually like the way your name rolls of her tongue. 

Since recent events she’s beginning to trust you a little more. This is a milestone for your relationship but you have to remind yourself not to get ahead. She’s not spoke about the night you shared together.

You reach out and take the bag from her, noting how she flinches at the change in pressure on her arm.

You give her an apologetic look and ask her how she feels.

She shrugs it off. She's had worse than a broken arm. You've read enough in her file to know this is nothing to her.

She broke it coming off the Kawasaki after narrowly avoiding driving right into one of Thorns lackeys, he had unexpectedly decided to cut her off on a busy intersection. The bike hit the sidewalk and then a wall, throwing her in the process. In order to blend in she went with the fall and even endured an lift to the hospital by the man. It had worked in their favour though as Natasha was able to plant a bug on the man and get them valuable intel on an upcoming party. She even exchanged numbers with the man and was proceeding to ‘chat’ with him, he could prove valuable later down the line. 

The break was healing at an astonishing rate. She put it down to Red Room engineering. A dark look crosses her face whenever she mentions that place. The look forbids further delving into the subject. 

You both ate in comfortable silence on the double bed, barely any space between you both.

Until a few days past sharing the bed had been uncomfortable for her so you had taken to sleeping on the small couch in the furthest corner of the room.

Horns locked when she insisted it should be you that takes the bed. You over ruled her with rank and eventually she gave in. 

On the first night in the large room it was made clear to you the reasoning for her discomfort in sharing a bed. Natasha suffered from nightmares and not the kind you had as a child. The kind that stemmed from real life pains and trauma. The kind that made you thrash and scream into the night. Dreams that set your body on fire and threw your nervous system into overdrive. 

Under normal circumstances she would have had a room of her own or would have shared with Clint, whom you assumed was well aware of these episodes and was trusted enough to stay with her.

You never told her that she woke you frequently with the noise. It was the polite thing to do, ignorance was bliss after all. You didn’t want her to know that you worried over her, that you wanted to offer some kind of comfort to her when she screamed into the pillows. 

Each morning she gave you a brief apologetic look for her actions that you would miss if you blinked. You simply gave her a rare smile and spoke nothing on the matter.

That was how the routine had been set until you awoke one night to find her shaking uncontrollably.

 

 

*

 

Despite everything screaming for you to leave her you got to your feet and crossed over to her. Placing a hand on her shoulder, trying to wake her.

Bad move.

A flash of red and a sickening crunch. She threw you against the wall and pounced. Hand clasped tight around your throat while the other was deciding whether it was worth the pain of a punch.

You choked out her name in anger and glared into her eyes only to find them dark and confused. She was barely even conscious.

She spoke in Russian. Demanded to know what you wanted, threatened to kill you unless you stayed away. 

You debated talking her down but she was close to crushing your larynx and your Russian wasn’t all that great.

In a swift move you turned the tables and pinned her to the wall. She could easily get out of this hold if needed but she didn’t and that stopped you from any further action.

Your gaze locked with hers only to find she was staring right back. Confusion replaced with recognition and perhaps regret. 

You released your grip and sat beside her, your back aching from the collision with the wall. 

She stayed still beside you for a while. No words were exchanged, only the sounds of you both trying to catch your breath.

Eventually you rise to your feet and enter the bathroom to splash cold water on your face.

When you returned she was sat the on the edge of the bed. Her expression was forlorn, her posture rigid. 

You took a seat next to her and stared straight ahead while you explained that you would requisition another room for yourself. You apologised for disturbing her from her sleep, apologised for scaring her. Told her that you don’t think any less of her so she should banish those thoughts that are dancing around her head.

She doesn’t speak a word, just continues to stare straight ahead. You stand up slowly and move towards the couch. A hand brushes against your own, the fingers lightly clasp your wrist.

You turn to meet her gaze, blue eyes shining in curiosity.

She rises to meet you and her lips hover a mere inch from your own. You can feel her soft breath against your skin, acutely aware that your heart rate is spiking by the proximity.

Time and space seems to pause before you finally close the distance and press your lips against her own. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, like pouring fire and ice into your veins.

Your hands hover nervously either side of her waist, you ball them up into fists to keep yourself from touching her. This isn’t right, she’s not thinking straight and you’re taking advantage of her. 

Natasha seems to sense your unease and pushes you onto the bed. She hovers over you with a slight smirk.

“You don’t want this Natasha. Let me up”

She studies you for a moment, almost like she’s quietly reminding herself that she gets to chose who she sleeps with now. She’s still adjusting to this concept, enjoying the freedom over her own body. You can see her considering the consequences of sleeping with you, she kisses your neck, decision made.

“It’s just sex Hill. I’ve seen the way you look at me”

She says the words like there a statement before leaning down to whisper into your ear and nibble on the lobe

“This way we can share the bed”

A normal person might have flushed red at her words but you were far from normal. Just as strong and as smart as she was, there was no denying that together you could make sparks. What little inhibition you might have had at that point went straight to the floor along with your shirt. 

“Just for tonight”

You moaned quietly into the cool air as she straddled one leg, pressing her knee against your core and pushing your legs apart. She takes her time undressing you as you do with her, neither of you are new to this and that surprises you both.

You strip each other until only your underwear is left and you thank the small part of your brain that decided to wear the lace rather than the sports bra. She seems to share in the sentiment and takes her time undoing the clasp at the back, committing the sight of your toned body to memory while she kisses you. 

Her touches are teasing, fingers lightly dance across your breasts and circle the most sensitive parts until you can almost hear your body screaming for more. She leans down and attacks your nipples with her mouth, sucking and nibbling, rolling them around her tongue and across her teeth. 

“Don’t . . .”

You beg breathlessly

“Don’t what Maria?”

Natasha leers up at you from your breasts, a playful smirk plasters her face.

“Don’t tease. I want you”

You turn the tables now and she’s the one lay on her back with your form hanging over her. At first she protests which only adds to your arousal. Her words quickly become moans when you remove her bra and return the favour in earnest. You kiss along the scars, dragging your teeth along the contours of each painted line on her chest. 

She’s breathing heavily now and you know what she wants. You kiss her deeply, tongues locking in battle until you break away and bite on her lip, not enough to mark but enough to send twinges of painful pleasure around her body to where it’s needed most. 

Your lips slowly move down her body, trailing kisses and gently sucking all the way down to her navel. She tastes of salt and her body is on fire, entirely at your mercy. You let one hand slip under the waistband of her panties, fingers creep slowly along her skin until you reach her clit. She’s practically dripping and not at all ashamed about it, you’re almost on par with her.

You press your hand up against her mound and kiss along her thighs, dragging her panties down with your teeth. She parts her legs wider after helping you to remove the soaked cotton from her long slender legs. You give her no time to ready herself and plunge one finger into her, pumping it slowly while you lick and suck along her folds.

She bucks her hips against the sudden friction and reaches down to entwine her fingers in your hair. You continue this slow torturous pace with just a single finger until she starts to beg quietly, her eyes are closed tight but her mouth hangs open a little. You’ve never seen a more blissful sight in your life.

You add another finger and pick up the pace, your other hand squeezes her thigh and holds one leg down. Her breathing quickens now and she murmurs curses in Russian, mixed in with the sound of your name and whimpers of delight. You kiss her folds again and finally add your tongue to her sex while your fingers twist and collide with her core. 

It’s too much for her and before long she contracts around you, locking your head against her sex with her thighs as she comes hard. Her juices spill out into your mouth and over your fingers. She looks down and watches you finish her off again, you revel in how she tastes in your mouth and lick her dry.

She watches you in awe, her own pleasure was always secondary and never a priority for partners she had taken to bed. In that moment you resembled a goddess to her and she was eager to return the favour. You were pulled up so that she could kiss you and taste herself on your tongue. The kiss is rough and her hands mark your back with pleasurable pain. 

You’re soaked and in need of relief of your own but her kiss is like a drug, it paralyses you and makes you crave more. She pushes you up until you’re against the bedframe, your arms wrapped around the wooden bars to support yourself as she goes down on you, tearing the soaked lace away like it was nothing but paper. 

All notions you may have had about her being nervous dissipated when she bit down on your clit and then proceeded to fuck you raw with her tounge. It hurt your pride to yell her name the way you did but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, no one had ever given you this much pleasure before with such simple movements. You whimpered as you came, the orgasm crashed over you like a relentless wave and she rode out your climax with her fingers. 

You catch your breath after she pulls out of you slowly and licks her fingers clean of your juices. She crawls up to straddle your lap and kisses you slowly now, almost lovingly. You run your hands along her curves and enjoy the sensation while it lasts. 

A flash of light flickers through the half closed curtains and a deep rumble follows suit, you both sigh in unison at the kick back into reality. She looks into your eyes for a moment and the ghost of a smile appears on her lips as she climbs off you and begins to dress. 

You follow suit after cleaning yourself up and go to lie down on the couch but she stops you.

“Don’t Hill”

You turn to meet her tired gaze and smile

“Don’t what?”

You repeat her own words from earlier with a small smile

“Don’t leave . . . I’m sorry for earlier”

You absentmindedly rub your throat, having all but forgotten about the incursion, your mind preoccupied by her barely clothed body. 

“Are you sure that’s safe. I don’t want you to feel threatened Natasha?” 

She pulls you into the bed and lays with her back against your chest.

“I trust you. . . Maria” 

Her words are barely audible but you don’t ask her to repeat them. You simply watch her body rise and fall until sleep claims her and then yourself.

 

*

 

Since that night you shared the bed, having discovered that she has fewer nightmares this way. Providing you keep some form of contact with her throughout the night she doesn’t wake up feeling threatened either. It works perfectly though you wish she would talk to you about the night you shared together.

You mention it to Phil, he’s been there for you for a large part of your life so confiding in him is easy. He chuckles about your lack of professionalism but notes it was about to happen eventually, especially after he saw Natasha staring at you on more than one occasion. That little revelation would give you confidence later down the line to talk to her, until then you have a job to do. 

*

“Phil agrees we should strike tonight at the party. There’s no point in further recon at this moment in time so we’re to call it off today”

You say aloud and she nods. You’ve both secured a way into the building complex for the party. She’ll be a guest of the thug who caused her to crash, his nickname is Scar and he’s apparently smitten with Natasha, eager to make amends and most likely looking to get laid by the gorgeous redhead. 

Natasha is very good at taking on personas, she’s going as the rescued damsel in distress and it will be her job to get Thorn alone. You know how she’ll do it, using her body to lure him in, but you try not to think about her seducing him. Pangs of jealously will hinder your actions if you’re not careful. 

“Did your ID and uniform arrive?”

She asks, casually prising a noodle from the small box and twirling it on the chop sticks. You watch her for a moment before nodding and gesturing to the metal case by the door.

“It’s standard urban mercenary gear, quite flattering really” 

You tease but she raises a brow in interest and smirks. You’ll be going to the party as a member of the private security team Thorn has hired to watch his back and secure his tower. It took a lot of money exchanging a lot of hands before your place was secured. Everyone on the team would know you as an ex soldier who was good friends with the boss so they’d give you no trouble. 

Phil would be outside in the surveillance van on overwatch ready to provide backup as required and extract all of you, Thorn included, to the private airport where your Quinjet was housed in an MI6 hangar. 

“What time is Mr TCB picking you up and where is he getting you from?”

You ask with a bemused expression and she actually grins at the name. Taking care of business was the first line he had used on her when he helped her from the wreck of her bike.

“8:00pm sharp. Complex less than a click from here. I’m just going to wait in the lobby with a fake pair of keys. The witless oaf isn’t going to question anything when he sees me in my dress . . . that reminds me, will you do my hair tonight?” 

She waved her broken arm a little as a way of pleading and you just nodded and smiled.

You were both in for a long night. That much was certain. 


	5. Chapter 5

The party was in full swing with most of the guests fully inebriated. Thorn seemed to have gathered every high class piece of scum within the UK for the occasion.

You had been sticking to the shadows and standing guard out of vision from Thorn and his guests. The cap you wore did little to disguise your face, you couldn't risk some form of recognition. God knows you didn't forget a single aspect of his face, you hoped he remembered every inch of yours also. Hoped it still carried a little fear. But for now your job was to cover Natasha and when the time comes, be her shield should things go awry.

Thorn had mandated that a guard ensure his guests did not wander or stray much, therefore one was to escort guests who wished to use the lavatories each time. Since you were the only female guard on rotation you had found yourself coming perilously close to the man on more than one occasion as you were summoned to do your duty and escort female guests.

It was only on the 5th time escorting an annoying housewife in a teal dress that you made your first mistake.

Thorn had been dancing with the woman when she summoned you to her again. Such close contact with the man could be a danger to the mission, you hesitated. Something that did not go unnoticed by Thorn and Natasha who was nearby with Scar.

"Are you deaf?"

He yelled crossing the room with the woman in tow, his body squaring up to you, alcohol giving him infinite confidence it would seem.

You kept the lid of the cap low and tried to avoid his gaze, a small crowd had begun to form to watch the sudden commotion.

"No sir. Apologies. This way ma'am"

You tried to walk off with the woman but he grabbed hold of your arm, his grip vice like and begging to be broken. You felt the breath trap in your lungs, could almost feel Natasha flinch in the distance. Phil began to murmur in your ear to keep you calm, not to react. You could make out Natasha from the corner of your eye, she was moving towards you when he knocked the cap from your head to the ground.

For a moment you stared into each others eyes. Your face gave no emotion away but inside was a furnace, boiling with anger but tempered by the need for revenge. 

His gaze lingered as you retrieved the cap and stood back to attention, wrenching your arm from his grip in the process.

If he recognized you he did not show it.

"You would do well to remember who is in charge here woman. I can have your job taken from you with just a click of my fingers. So why don't you show me you can still do your job and escort my guest to the toilet hmm? There's a good dog"

He laughed in your face, guests joining in soon after. You did your best to look embarrassed but in truth you were hiding contempt.

"As you wish sir"

You quipped back, voice laced with venom that you could not hide.

Before he could respond Natasha interjected. Her voice was unnaturally feminine and she was giggling as she laced her arm with your own. Appearing to lean on you for support.

"Take me first please. I'll be back in a sec babe"

She purred to Scar who made to follow but Thorn stopped him.

Scar had given you a leering look as you escorted his 'date' away from him. You swore you heard him mutter something about a woman in uniform to Thorn as you entered the lavish bathrooms and locked the door.

"Is something wrong?" Your gaze ran up and down her body while she turned her back on you to rinse the soap from her hands, eyes drinking in the curves so very visible thanks to the rather flattering black dress.

She lent forward and adjusted the leather jacket you were wearing over the flak vest slightly, somewhat of a frown ghosting on her lips when tucked the stray strands of hair behind your ear and back under the cap.

"That armor is rather inadequate. The weapon even more so" 

Natasha adjusted the strapping of your supposedly bulletproof vest and checked the sights of the MP5 issued to you as part of the 'guard package'. She was stalling, apparently wanting to say something but not quite sure how to proceed. 

"I don't intend to get shot and I have my Glock concealed so there shouldn't be an issue" 

You quipped back, confused by the sudden care she was projecting.

She frowned and pulled her hand away quickly, staring under the cap, her eyes piercing through yours.

"Remember what I requested in your office before we started this . . . you never gave me an answer"

You narrowed your eyes and had to bite your tongue, Phil was most likely listening intently. She was referring to taking control if she believed you were compromised

"I'm not compromised. Focus on your part of the op"

That may have been a little harsh but having her second guess you over a single incident was trying.

She rolled up the sleeve of your jacket and examined the bruising from Thorns grip. Her fingers rubbing in a soothing motion that would have made you sigh in content were you not so riled at this moment. 

"I don't mean to interrupt but you should leave that room and get back to the party before they start to suspect something is amiss"

Phil's voice through the comms broke the trance and you pulled your arm away quickly. 

"You're going to have to hurry Miss Rushman. Can't keep your date waiting" 

She arched a perfect brow and glared at you. The kind of look that makes your breath hitch as you wait for the storm.

"The night is winding to a close. Be ready"

She spoke quickly before turning on her heel and leaving the bathroom, you struggling to keep up with her step.

Fortunately for you the woman in the teal dress was nowhere to be seen, apparently forgetting she had needed your services. 

You returned back to your post and endured a brief scolding from your 'boss' who was furious that you were getting him into trouble with Thorn.

After ensuring him that everything was fine and that he would receive more money he left you alone at your post, where you stayed for a further three hours before guests began to filter out.

You caught sight of Natasha leaning on a rather pleased Thorn. His hand was placed on the small of her back and occasionally went lower to cop a feel. Natasha simply giggled and kissed his neck every time he assaulted her in that way. You did your best to keep your expression neutral as he walked past, heading for the office where he would be entertaining the VIP's for a while further. 

He stopped for a moment and beckoned for you and another guard to follow. The rest were ordered to begin clean-up of the mess left behind. 

You fell in line with the other and watched Scar follow in front. His face was sunken, most likely annoyed that his date had been whisked away by his boss. You allowed yourself a small smile at that.

"And now my friends we shall truly start the party. If you would like to follow my associate to my private function room"

You scowled as he addressed the small party of 12 which included yourself, the other guard, Natasha and Scar. They were all men minus Natasha and the woman in the teal dress. This unnerved you a little.  

"I don't like this" 

You mumbled quietly, just loud enough that Phil could hear over the hidden comm in your ear

"Me neither but you have no choice. Don't worry, we'll get this bastard one way or another"

He replied, offering you some comfort as you made to enter the private room which contained numerous poker tables and other casino attractions.

"Not you. Come with me for a moment, I have a job for you"

You were halted at the door by Thorn, your eyes locked with Natasha's for a moment. They hinted at trouble, you gave a small nod to assure her you were prepared. Scar flanked you and urged you forward, you didn't react other than to nod and followed after Thorn and Natasha. 

The building complex is old, Victorian in style but rather grand. It is close to several other buildings of a similar style. They are all owned by the wealthy and this particular one is the home of the man who swaggers in front of you. It comes of no surprise to see paintings of him lining the wall, you want to snicker at the ego of the man but scar is Breathing down your neck. 

As you climb the stairs to the 7th floor Natasha shoots you a quick look, seemingly looking for permission to strike. You almost give it to her until you start to meander down a lavish corridor where a few armed men are stood guard. Thorn takes you both straight into his office and locks the door behind you all.

No sooner as he moved from the door the reasoning for your being here sinks in like an icy kick to the gut. Your weapon is taken from you in an instant and Scar pushes you against the wall, his hands groping, trying to tear away your clothing.

"You have a chance to redeem yourself woman" Thorn leers at you as he pulls Natasha over to the window and presses his body against her own. She pretends to go along with it but her eyes never leave yours as she wraps her legs around his waist, apparently enjoying his attention. 

You push back painful memories from your childohood as Scar rips the belt from his slacks and tries to use it to tie your hands. You use this distracted moment to throw your skull against his, the crack is sickening and he falls back, yelping in pain. His cries alert the guards outside and the sound of footsteps gets louder.

Thorn practically throws Natasha away and pulls out a pistol, aiming it directly at her head.

"Now now Hill. Surprised? How stupid do you think I am, I knew it was only a matter of time before SHIELD sent it's attack dogs again. Though granted you have done remarkably well to get so close. I honestly didn't suspect a thing until you fucked up back there. . . you truly believe i'd forget that face of yours? Oh the things i've dreamt about doing to that government issue body of yours"

You hold your hand up to stop Natasha from moving on him, she glares at you in confusion but makes no further move.

"The whole building is surrounded by agents from MI6 and Interpol. So why don't you make this easy on yourself for once and come quietly. At least this way you get to live in a pretty little box with three square meals a day. You won't look so favorable on the other option I promise you that if you pull that tirgger you sadistic pig"

You bark at him, your voice surprisingly commanding and not at all nervous or panicked.

"You're lying Maria. No more agents will dare come near after what I did to the last that tried. You remember Hannah don't you? What a lovely young girl she was, well she was until i was through with her. You don't want to lose another agent do you? Especially one as pretty as she is-"

Before he can even have time to continue you charge and smash through the window. You know Natasha could have easily avoided any shots, knew she could have destroyed both of the men in that room without so much as breaking a sweat. You just couldn't bare to take that chance, not again. You let his words hit home and ignored Phil's frantic orders in your ears. 

You didn't mean to go through the window, you barely even felt the bullet from Scars weapon tear through the vest. His firing was wild and erratic but quietened almost as soon as it had started. Natasha had seen to that and then she had looked on in horror to see you both tumble towards the other building which was thankfully so close. 

You were only in the air for less than 2 seconds but it felt like hours before your arm raised and shielded your head as you and Thorn ploughed into the window of the 6th floor of the other building. 

The glass shattered with a deafening roar as you both tumbled through into the deserted room. The vest absorbed a great deal of the impact but Thorns weight pushed you into the ground and you collided with the carpet hard. You managed to push him off you as you both touched solid ground. His body went left, yours went right and hit the wall. 

Everything went black after that. 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

“Move” You say to yourself. The voice unfamiliar and strange. “Get up” Definitely not yours, there is strength in the sound and it commands action. You look around the room again, clarity returning as the whistle in your head lowers in pitch to become a dull aching sound. Your body is jealous and proceeds to join in with your head; the ache spreads further until you’re forced to breathe like the snipers of old. You sip at the dust laden air and look down.

The jeans are torn, your blood paints the ripped material and your jacket is hanging off your shoulder in tattered strips of brown leather. It exposes the armoured vest which is punctured by the stray bullet, red seeps slowly from the small hole. You throw your head back and sigh. The glass was a bad idea. You look down at the shards protruding from your arm and let out a quiet laugh. Definitely a bad idea

You lift your right wrist so that it hovers directly in front of your stomach and watch as the bruises begin to form. A familiar voice emits from your earpiece, the sound distorted but understandable. She asks you your status, any emotion expertly hidden, though you know she saw the whole ordeal. You clamber to your feet and unsettle the dust.

Your eyes find Thorn’s form in the corner; his crumpled body lay prone against the carpet where you cushioned his fall then threw him off. Taking another sip of the air you manage to convince her that you have the target and you are fine. Only one part of that is a lie.

The sounds of a Helicopter become apparent. They do not give up that easy. You command her to get the car and wait; the elevator should get you both down to street level and out of sight from the bird stalking your movements.

He begins to stir a little, mumbles incoherently. You’re both in bad shape but adrenaline begins to course through your veins, giving you the boost needed to get this done. You help him to his feet and secure him. Injured or not he still poses a risk and this mission is far from over.

“If you think you’ve won Mari-“ His attempt to regain composure and show some face is interrupted by a violent cough and he trembles, you’ve at least cracked his ribs with the fall. Your own body isn’t shy of pain either so drawing sympathy for this murdering psychopath would be like trying to draw blood from the Hulk. Medical was going to have a field day with this.

“Moving to your position now” Natasha’s voice breaks your pained glare from Thorn and redirects it to the falling number on the elevator screen. She sounds a little busy, you wonder how many men are left to draw breath after she has made it to the lobby.

“What is it you hope to achieve Maria? By now my men are surrounding the area looking for me and you’re barely standing upright. Who’s the new girl you’ve brought with you? I bet she’d look nice laid out on a table, completely at my mercy“

He coughs again and wipes blood from his mouth. In his weakened state you are more than a match for him. A fact the coward is acutely aware of. Still, you’re covered in lacerations (some of them deep) and the seeping bullet wound is rapidly reducing your favourable odds. A fact you are acutely aware of.

“Guests are still leaving the compound and towers. The alarms aren’t sounding just yet, only the chopper is flying low with a searchlight. They’ve not made me just yet . . . You fell through a window?” Coulsons voice is calm, the undertones of concern evident. He knows better than to request your status right now but will not resist scolding you for foolish actions later down the line. Natasha will always be the exception to the rule it would seem.

“Status Hill” She requests calmly. You hear the crackle of an electrical current from her signature weapon. Some unfortunate guard is most likely hitting the ground, twitching uncontrollably on the floor while a once seemingly harmless redhead tries not to get his blood on her heels.

‘ _So it’s Hill again . . ._ ‘

 You muse quietly to yourself as the cart passes the 3rd floor and approaches the 2nd. Though you cannot hear the anger in her voice you know it’s there. Natasha is a master at manipulating emotions and you’re a close second. For you to let yours govern your actions is completely out of character and she’ll be sure to vocalize her disagreement. You can only imagine how Director Fury will take the news.

 “Approaching the lobby. If the layout is the same as the other building I’ll divert through the back and take the rear courtyard access to the road. Bring the van around and hopefully we can blend right into the traffic“

You don’t exactly answer her question, injuries are easily ignored when adrenaline takes over. You’re brain switches to survival mode, reflexes on autopilot.

Despite the fact that you’re only half improvising now, it’s clearly showing that this whole scenario was never part of the plan. Thorns lips twitch to form a sinister smile. Your skin would crawl were you not made of sterner stuff.

The elevator doors slide open and you drag him out to an lobby that’s devoid of anything other than tarp and construction materials. It’s empty. You take no chances and use his injured form as a human shield.

‘ _So much for his security team’_ You muse quietly to yourself. Were they under your employment they would have surrounded the elevator, a roadblock already well in place with men searching every car that approached.

“Thorns men are starting to search the guests. Stopping the valets from handing over keys, we need to move fast before they get smart and set up a roadblock. I could use a distraction that would preferably not draw the police to the scene. They are already buzzing about a small commotion in this district. Let us not draw them in further” Coulson announces, taking care to avoid drawing attention to the van as he moves off from the kerb.

The door opens, a woman stands there with her dress and hair only a tad out of place. Her face falters if only slightly as she looks upon yours all marred by cuts from the glass and bruised from the fall.

“How did you get here so fast?” You ask, an incredulous look upon your face as she moves forward, weapon drawn and pointed at Thorn.

“Welcome to the party Black Widow” Thorn sneers, having seemingly lied about his uncertainty on who she was.

“If you know who I am then you’ll know what I can do. It would be in your best interests to keep quiet” She glares at him with the same look that has made grown men cower. His arrogance seems to shield him from its effects.

“Ladies if you stop now I promise I’ll leave your pretty little faces intact. That way your families will be able to recognise your corp- Ahhhh!” He screeches in pain as the butte of the pistol smashes against his jaw. Natasha’s lips would have curled into a smirk were she not so infuriated by the situation they were in.

“That’s enough from you” She announces and you grimace as his weight slumps against yours. Her jaw tightens but she makes no move to help you. Instead she glares at you, eyes piercing and bright.

“Clint will be proud” She murmurs and you actually smile. The scolding will come later it seems.

“How bad is it?” You ask, flinching as she examines a large shard of glass protruding from your side.

“The jacket is ruined. Shame, you look good in leather” The concern in her voice is laced with sarcasm. You flinch as she tears the tattered strips away and ties off some of your wounds.

“Shouldn’t you answer Phil?” A knowing smirk on her face as you flush red, so captivated by her gentle touch and care for your wellbeing.

“Throw the flashbangs into the crowd. Make the people scatter. We’ll use the ensuing chaos to slip away. It will draw the cops but we’ll be long gone before they descend on the towers. Besides they are probably already mobilising ready to defend this piece of trash. Thorn pays for the commissioner’s seat at the charity ball after all” You instruct Phil like it should be obvious to the man, there’s no quiet option of escape on the table anymore. You begin to pull Thorns heavy form towards the rear doors with Natasha on point.

“Oh I do more than that for John lass” A barely conscious Thorn smiles, with blood painting his teeth the sight is ghastly. “I’ve got my fingers back into every pot down here. It didn’t take that long really and I’m sure you’re aware of my new enterprise as well?”

Natasha raises a brow and makes to silence him again but you’re quick to stop her. He’s much easier to move conscious than he would be knocked out flat on his dumb ass.

She simply glares again and moves on ahead, checking their corners with the military precision drilled into her from her time training with the Strike Teams. SHIELD’s answer to S.W.A.T

“Shut up Henshaw” You growl in exasperation

“God do you have the right to remain silent” The pounding in your head is beginning to make every move a little more difficult and his voice is grating on your last nerve.

“You know we’ve considered expanding our market. There are people in this world, sick in the head mind you, that will pay through the roof for a young kid. Gender doesn’t seem to matter but I’ve found that 10 year old girls and under are the most valuable”

His attempts to goad you are admirable considering the obvious pain the man is in. You silently vow to make him pay before handing him over as you draw closer to the rear doors of the lobby.

 “That agent of yours was quite young wasn’t she? She screamed like a child at least when I cut her fingers off one by one. I should have saved her for myself and sold her on to the Chinese triad when I was bored of her. They pay good money for Americans”

You slam him into the nearby pillar with a little more force than your body was willing to submit. It’s a move that you will regret later on as he uses your blind anger against you. Activating an emergency beacon on his watch as he pushes his bound wrists into your chest.

“Maria. . .” Natasha begins, placing an arm on your shoulder, tugging lightly.

The action is gentle and maybe even comforting, not at all what you would have expected in light of your actions. He is also her target after all, a mission failure for you is a failure for her. Coulson too.

“The only reason you’re not lying in a pool of your own blood right now is that my self control and desire to watch you suffer outweighs the very tempting notion of putting a bullet between your eyes”

You shrug off Natasha’s hand and glare at Thorn. Your face inches from his, eyes sparking with dangerous electricity.

“Everything you’ve done is unforgivable and you’re hands are dripping with the blood of innocent lives. We’re not even supposed to be here so when you disappear no one will ever know where you are and who took you. You know what that makes you? A cold case, a ghost. I’m personally going to make sure that where you’re going you suffer, tormented and chained for the rest of your miserable life. So do yourself a favour and shut the fuck up! Because I am seconds away from gutting you like you did to Hannah . . . only there’ll be nothing left to find of you”

He glares back and you see the look you’ve been craving for so many long years in his eyes. Fear. Fear in the knowledge that he’s made himself a powerful enemy, one that he should maybe stop antagonising while he’s in her company. 

You release your grip and move back from him, swaying on your feet slightly. Natasha quickly moves forward, placing her hand on the small of your back discreetly. You flinch slightly at the contact but the small support is enough to steady yourself.

“Remind me never to piss you off Maria” Phil murmurs in your ear. You know what he must be thinking about right now, you picture her body in that alley as well.

“I’m ready to throw the flashbangs into the crowd. Get to the kerb now” He commands and sure enough you hear the non lethal explosions ring out, the ‘bang’ reverberates off the buildings making them sound something akin to a IED.

After the initial explosion only the sound of faint buzzing can be heard before panic and chaos take hold and screams erupt outside.

“Footsteps. We need to move” Natasha informs you as she crosses in front of you and pulls you both towards the tall doors. No sooner do you crash through them do men appear in the lobby behind you, shouting and cursing as they frantically search for their boss.

Thorn goes to call out but Natasha silences him with another blow at the same time that Phil throws another flashbang. The guests from the party are joined by pedestrians on the streets, the pitch of the yelling and screaming only increases in volume and before long sirens add to the wailing.

In a mad dash to escape the crowds surge along the roads and Phil has a hard time getting onto the kerb. You push forward when you hear someone yell that ‘they’re over there’. Gunshots follow next and Natasha tears forward with a strength that you do not possess in your weakened state. She takes Thorn from you and hands you her weapon in the process.

You cover their escape and fire pot shots into the crowd at the approaching men. Though you’re careful not to hit civilians, each shot you fire fails to hit any of the men. The blood loss has made you sloppy. 

They’re getting closer now and the wailing of police sirens only gets louder. The Chopper from earlier has its searchlight frantically following the men who are pushing and shooting through the crowds to get to you.

You reach the van with moments to spare and gratefully accept Natasha’s assistance in climbing aboard. With his people secured Phil demonstrates his uncanny ability to drive like a street racer and puts the heavy vehicle through its paces. Though the van manages to slip away from your pursuers there is a roadblock ahead and Phil shows no sign of slowing. He smashes through the police cars, knocking them aside like they are but toys to be tossed around for fun.

“Hold on” He exclaims as the van perilously sways, threatening to tip as he turns down an alley to avoid an oncoming police Astra.

“We’ve got company” Natasha yells as the Chopper appears on your tail. A gunner seated on the right quickly switches sides and unleashes a torrent of bullets. The tarmac is pounded hard with chips flying into your windscreen, cracking the glass a little more with each .

“Explosive rounds . . . damn” You grumble, clutching your side while you strap a still unconscious Thorn into the foldout seat.

“We need to lose that bird. We won’t make it to the Quinjet with that on our tail” Phil grumbles, pulling a hard right to avoid traffic. You’re all secretly thankful this isn’t the centre of London, an area notorious for its congestion.

“Call MI6. Have them route traffic and give us a clear run to the airport” Natasha shouts over the sound of the screeching breaks as Phil diverts again to avoid a collision.

“The moment Maria went out the window so did any more help from MI6. They can’t be seen to be helping and SHIELD will deny any and all involvement if we’re caught . . . or worse”

Phil replies quickly and you hang your head slightly in shame. Anything from this point forward will be your fault. The blame will rest solely on your shoulders. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve screwed up but you vow to make it your last.

Within 15 minutes Phil has lost the chopper on your tail by diverting into a busy section of the city. You drive for a further 20 minutes until you reach a suburb where you park the van and decide on how to proceed. Throughout the entire journey you had managed to conceal the extent of your injuries but she watches you like a hawk.

You wince and clutch your abdomen when the van hits the kerb a little harder than Phil intended. Natasha leans forward and cups your chin, the action is a little rougher than she intended but it’s hard to move with care and grace in a vehicle with questionable suspension. Even as it slows to a complete stop the cab seems to shake.

“We’ve got another problem”

She begins, lifting your head so that your eyes can meet. Her hand travels under the supposedly ‘Kevlar’ vest and comes away stained red.

Phil needs only one backward glance to understand the urgency in his agents tone.

“I’m fine, focus on extraction” Your voice has lost its earlier strength so you lock your jaw and try to breathe through the pain. It’s not difficult when you picture the future in store for your mission target who’s still out cold in his seat but alive nonetheless.

“I don’t think ‘fine’ quite covers it. We need to get her to a hospital” Natasha ignores your meagre protests and starts to lift the vest away. You gasp involuntarily when her palm presses hard against the entry wound.

She pulls you forward for a moment and you almost believe she’s going to kiss you until her head looks over your shoulder to your back.

“Exit wound. Through and through”

She lays you back against the seat, gaze firm and slightly concerned.

“The Quinjet is equipped with a medkit”

You murmur, gaze struggling to lock with Natasha’s.

“You won’t make it to the Quinjet” Phil points out matter-of-factly

“Trust me. The longer we stay in London the more likely we’re going to get caught. I invoke priority one protocol Phil. Direct order. We go to the airport and fly this bastard home”

Phil and Natasha curse in unison. No one argues with this protocol.

Not even Natasha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the length of time it has taken to update.  
> Writers block among other things.


	7. Chapter 7

It's cold, but this feeling over your body is beyond natural. The chill is bone deep and cuts you at the core, fierce fires fighting against a tidal surge of ice coursing through your veins. It's like a dance, both partners graceful, powerful and wanting more than the other can give. The Ice wants to lead but the Fire won't release it's grip. The flames have been forged from an early age, tempered by hardships and fanned by pain. The fire keeps you alive, keeps your burning heart beating a fierce solo against your heavy chest. The Ice is a predator, it's cold and deadly hand wanting to squeeze your chest and suck the life from your limbs. It hunts for weakness, hammers against the cracks in your armour, tries to break you wide open.

You're beyond confused by the sights behind closed eyes, images that haunt are blurred and spiraling into each other while an intense beam of light grows around you. This is a dream, a terrible and spiteful dream but a figment of your imagination nonetheless. You claw at consciousness and cry out, gasping as the dance floor shifts to a battlefield, a child's room, a hospital, a desert. It's drowning you alive but the sensation from an unseen hand is your anchor and you cling to the unnatural warmth, the pressure feeding the flames until the ice pushes again.

"She's not going to make it" A distant voice is interrupting the images and replacing them with static until the desert begins to feel more real. The ice takes advantage and advances further through your body, the cold grip offering you a strange sense of comfort from the blistering heat of the light. You almost want it to envelop you and cradle you in its deadly arms.

"We have no choice" One calls back and the light shines a little brighter, the ice pushing you towards it while the fires that burned within begin to falter in the fight for your life. "Screw this . . . , we're going for help" 

*

The cold has gone now but you can barely feel the warmth from the flames. You let out an unconscious moan and your body tenses until a soothing touch breaks through the desperation and catches your senses. You can hear a steady 'beep' now as you fight the dark and feel your weight grow, your tired body is not eager to leave the mercy of sleep

"-LOOK I'M NOT SAYING YOU CAN'T STAY IT'S JUST THAT *sigh* my colleague is starting to ask questions about who you are and I know what your lot do to people who ask questions. Plus, there's the added variable that these two need further medical care and I can't expect Dr Stone to rush here for an emergency op again no questions asked. This is a physics laboratory not an ER . . . nor is it a prison and this guy is giving me the creeps"

You tense up at the unfamiliar voice and the monitor spikes, footsteps grow louder until they stop within a breath of where you lie.

"Dr Foster I assure you that as soon as they are both stable we will be out of your hair. As I've told you countless times before, SHIELD is not the enemy here and you and Dr Stone will be debriefed once we return back to our base. In the meantime I can assure you that this man no longer poses a threat and that you will be reimbursed for your time and effort in saving an agent. All I ask is you continue to offer us shelter"

Phils voice is distinct so you have no trouble picking out his calm and carefully chosen words to someone who you can only assume is Jane Foster. This unproven fact all but confirms that you never made it to the Quinjet and your blood begins to boil. 

"She's waking up" Another more familiar voice speaks coolly and you feel a slight tingle as a hand ghosts across your own. You ball up your fist when a twinge of pain breaks through whatever the hell it is your dosed up on and a soft sigh breaks the tension in the room.

"You can stay Coulson. Just come with me to get Dr Stone, she'll need to examine the patients and redress their wounds. Maybe you can convince her not to call the police as well, especially given that his face is all over the news right now" 

The way Jane spits the last part lets your comatose mind know that she is very much aware of the danger they have put her in. 

"I'm good at convincing people to keep my secrets doctor, don't worry. Romanoff stay with Hill and Thorn, keep an eye out, I'm going to try and make contact with HQ and let them know the situation has changed" 

*

 

You finally awake slowly when the noise of the others leaves the room. Eyes blink rapidly to bat away the sleep and you try to lift a tired arm to rub at them only to be gently restrained by another. Natasha appears in your peripheral, apparently the source of your earlier comfort and warmth. 

"You look like shit" her words are teasing and not at all appropriate, especially given the pain you're in, but she has every right to be angry.

Just as you have too judging by your surroundings. This dingy lab is far from the SHIELD medical room you had hoped to wake up in, the barely sterile surfaces leaving much to be desired. 

"Thanks" you croak out and cough to clear your lungs as you take in the sight of the pissed off redhead and the makeshift hospital you find yourself in. 

Your eyes travel a little further than Natasha and note Thorn sat up on a metal bench in the corner of the room. He's cuffed to some rusted pipes and blindfolded, most of his arm and neck taped up in gauze. However his smug grin upon hearing that you're awake makes your skin crawl in fury and the monitor spike again. A slight pressure on your wrist from her hand brings you back again but you don't let the anger subside.

 "When I give an order, I expect it to be followed" Your words are simple, full of venom and authority but the condition you're in makes them seem weak. 

"The situation changed Maria . . . you're welcome by the way" 

 


End file.
